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Authors: Teresa Southwick

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BOOK: Taming the Montana Millionaire
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“It was a blessing in disguise,” Haley said. “Always good to know they work.”

But when Angie's brown eyes darkened with temper, it was clear she didn't appreciate the good-natured joking.
“And you've never let me try again. How am I going to learn?”

“Have you ever heard the expression where there's smoke, there's fire?” Austin's mouth curved up in a teasing smile. “I kind of like having a roof over my head. Especially with winter coming.”

“You're a jerk.” Angie punched him in the arm.

“Ow.” He rubbed the spot and said to Haley, “She hit me. Are you going to let her get away with not using her words?”

“When are you going to stop treating me like a kid? I'm older than you were when mom died.” Angie glared at her, then turned on her heel and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

“She's a little touchy.” Austin shrugged. “I better go after her. I'm her ride.”

“See you at home,” Haley said.

When they were alone again, she and Marlon both spoke at once.

“I'm sorry—”

“They grew up—”

Haley shrugged. “You go first.”

“I was just going to say that your siblings grew up well, thanks to you.”

She stared out the window where dusk was just settling over Main Street. “I was just going to say that I'm sorry you had to see that.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Angie's meltdown. She gets snippy when she thinks I'm babying her.”

“Looks to me like you were just taking care of your own.” He shrugged.

“She doesn't see it that way. She thinks twenty years old is all grown up.”

His brown eyes turned the color of rich chocolate when sympathy slid into them. “She's right, though. She is older than you were when—” he shifted his feet then looked at her “—when you took over as head of the family.”

“I did what I had to. What anyone would have.”

“I'm not so sure that's true. A lot of people would have just walked away from all that responsibility. Not you.”

“I couldn't. They're my family.” She shrugged as if that explained everything.

“And family is there for each other. But that's not how it looked to me. From what I saw, you take care of everyone else. I can't help wondering who takes care of you.”

“Like I said, I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own.”

He shook his head as he stared down at her. “I'm two parts awed and one part bothered by that.”

“Why?”

“As the song says, everybody needs somebody sometime. Like you needed me today.”

“That's the thing, Marlon. If you hadn't been here, I'd have rounded up some guys. Austin would have helped. He has friends. I'd have gotten it done somehow.”

She remembered back to those first weeks and months after her mother died. They'd gone through the motions of living, but it was like being among the walking dead. They were in shock. In spite of that, she'd had to make sure her siblings went to school, ate, did their homework. That evolved into supervising who their friends were, where they went and with whom. All the things a parent would do. What her mom had done for her.

“You're pretty amazing, Haley Anderson.”

“Thanks.”

His praise warmed her clear through, in a place that she hadn't realized was frozen over and numb. But it was
dangerous to allow it to thaw. If that happened, feeling would return and with it the pins and needles of nerve endings awakening and the pain that went along with it. She'd gotten through her mom's death, but never ever wanted to lose someone again. She just didn't think she had it in her to go on without someone she loved.

And Marlon Cates, happy wanderer and world traveler, was not the person she wanted to talk to about this. It was like exposing her soft underbelly and left her feeling too vulnerable, too raw.

She angled her head toward the door. “I have to go. The hungry hordes are waiting at home.”

“Right,” he said. “Me, too.”

“Okay.” She grabbed her purse from the floor and slid the strap over her shoulder. “Good night.”

“Wait.” He put his hand on her arm to stop her. The feel of his fingers rolled heat all the way to her heart, which started popping like a bag of microwave popcorn. Just barely, she stopped the quiver that his touch generated.

“What?” she asked, a little too breathlessly. With luck he didn't notice.

“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

Putting a finer point on the question, she didn't really want him there at all. Because she would look forward to seeing him. And she didn't want to.

But apparently whatever selfless kick he was on hadn't let up because he was waiting for an answer. “I'm working the breakfast and dinner shifts at The Hitching Post, but this mural needs work so I plan to do that for a couple of hours in between. You could scrub the walls.” His narrowed gaze made her add, “I can't afford more paint, but it needs to be cleaned up. Just a little elbow grease.” A task that just might flip the off switch on this altruistic streak of his.

“Okay. See you then.”

When he took his hand off her arm and walked out the door, Haley released the breath she'd been holding. Anticipation stretched inside her, a sensation she hadn't experienced for a long time. If she could have stopped it she would have because it
so
wasn't a good idea. But the fact was, she found herself looking forward to tomorrow—and dreading it.

What else would he talk her into doing against her better judgment?

Chapter Three

W
hen Haley arrived at ROOTS the next day Marlon was there waiting. She pulled up at the curb, then grabbed the bags of stuff sitting on the seat beside her and hopped down.

“Hi.”

Just like that, his voice and smile kick-started that popping inside her, even though she'd had a whole lot of hours to brace for another face-to-face. “Hi.”

Clever comeback, she told herself.

“Let me take those,” he said, reaching for the bags.

Their hands brushed and her chest felt tight. “Thanks.”

He hefted one. “Do you have rocks in here?”

“You caught me.” Slightly more clever on the comeback scale.

He peeked inside and saw the bottles of cleaning supplies along with a bag of candy. There was a wry expression in his eyes. “Nutritious.”

“Special treats,” she defended. “There's a couple cases of soda in the truck. I'll get them.”

He set the bags down by the door and said, “Allow me. You be the brains. I'll be the brawn.”

Don't have to ask me twice,
she thought, letting herself look at his back as he walked to her truck. She was twenty-four-years old and had never had sex, but inexperience didn't stop her from admiring his broad shoulders and excellent butt. She didn't even know the criteria upon which veteran, male-watching women relied to determine whether or not a man had a bonafide excellent backside, but to her way of thinking, Marlon definitely did.

The muscles in his arms and back rippled and bunched as he stacked the cases of soda one on top of the other then lifted. A flutter moved from her belly to her throat and all of a sudden she couldn't draw a deep breath.

As he turned, she quickly stuck her key in the door and hoped he hadn't caught her staring. That was all she needed. Having him around was a challenge, but she wouldn't know how to handle his teasing about man/woman stuff, highlighting her lack of sophistication. She just wouldn't be able to stand it if he pitied her.

He stopped beside her and frowned. “Is there a problem with the door?”

“Lock's a little stiff,” she mumbled, turning the key and twisting the knob to open the door for him.

He walked in ahead of her and she picked up one of the bags outside before following him. Inside, she saw that he'd stopped dead-still and everything about his body language screamed tension.

“Haley?”

“What?” She moved around him and glanced at the room.

It wasn't the way she'd left it. The back cushions on the
sofa had been moved. There were junk food wrappers and beer cans on the coffee table.

“Did you have chips and beer for dinner here last night?”

“No.” The one word came out on a whisper as apprehension ballooned inside her.

“Did you let some kids in?” he asked.

“I left right after you. ROOTS isn't officially opened yet. And if it were, I wouldn't be serving beer.”

Marlon set the cases of soda down on the scarred coffee table. “Stay here.”

“Why? Where are you going?” She automatically started toward the back and he put out his arm to stop her.

“What part of ‘stay here' did you not understand?”

“The part where you're going all special agent, covert op. This is my project.”

“And there could be someone back there who knows it and is waiting for you.” He glared down and there was no trace of humor in his eyes, which was more alarming than the tension in his voice. “Stand by the open door. I'm going to check the place out. If necessary, you go for help.”

“But, Marlon, you might need me—”

“No,” he said firmly. “Stay here.”

“Okay.”

It took less than a minute for him to look around the storeroom and bathroom, but it felt like days. Bad stuff always seemed to last longer than the good.

“It's all clear.” He appeared in the doorway, his face grim. “But you've got a broken window in here.”

She hurried back and saw that the glass in the top half of the door had been shattered. Shards were on the floor. “That's how they got in.”

“Yeah.”

“Why can't I catch a break?”

The words popped out before she could stop them. She'd been so excited when she left last night. The kids would have a place to sit and TV to watch. Now someone who only wanted a place to party had violated her sense of trust.

“Sometimes life is just not fair—” Emotion flooded her and she caught the corner of her top lip between her teeth to keep from giving in to it.

Marlon pulled her into his arms. “Don't go to the bad place.”

“I don't have to go. It broke in and made itself at home.”

His big palm rubbed up and down her back and the heat of his body warmed hers. She hadn't even realized how cold she was.

“Don't let it get to you. We'll talk to the cops and see if there's anything they can do. Look on the bright side.”

“Is there one?” She forced herself to step away from him. “No, wait, this is where you say things could have been worse.”

“It's true.”

“Yeah? How?”

“There wasn't anything here to take. And they brought their own beer and snacks,” he added.

She fought a smile and felt better for it. God help her, she was glad he'd been here. She wasn't used to anyone looking out for her. Leaning on him was different. And not totally bad. This was a side to Marlon that she'd never seen before. Kind of heroic, which was out of character. She remembered him being a scoundrel and everything she'd seen and heard had supported that impression.

“Let's not wallow,” he suggested.

“Not even for a couple minutes?”

He shook his head. “Action is what you need. I'll sweep
up the glass. Do you have a measuring tape?” When she nodded, he said, “You measure for a new window. Then we'll go to the hardware store. It'll be good as new.”

It was impossible not to perk up the way he was snapping out orders. She wondered what he was like to work for.

Haley handed him the broom. “So, do your employees cower in fear when they see you coming?”

“No. I'm the world's best boss.”

“How do you figure?”

“I'm not in the office all that much.”

“Where do you go?” she asked.

“The better question is where don't I go.” He pulled the trash can over, then squatted down and picked up the biggest pieces of glass.

“Okay. I'll bite. Where don't you go?” she asked.

“Fiji. Polynesia. Tahiti.” He looked up and grinned. “Seriously.”

“I've been all over the U.S. San Francisco. Seattle. New York. Washington, D.C.”

“Why?”

“I'm a salesman. It's my job to meet with business people and convince them that the MC/TC brand will fly out of their stores.”

“I bet you could probably sell beachfront property in Las Vegas,” she said.

“It wouldn't be easy.” He looked up and grinned. “But challenge is my middle name.”

“Have you been to Las Vegas?”

“Quite a few times. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but Vegas is the real deal. Very exciting. A buffet for the senses.”

“How so?”

He stood and leaned on the broom. “The first thing you notice are the lights. The Strip is all neon and turns night
into day. Then you go inside and there are more lights, this time with the sound. Dings, bells, sirens. Any kind of food you can imagine is there. In fact, any decadence you're looking for you can find.”

“Wow.” She couldn't help wondering how many decadences he'd had. “Where else have you been?”

“The beach. Caribbean beaches are spectacular, but Malibu, Santa Barbara, Santa Monica—there's an excitement to the California coast.”

“I've never seen the ocean,” she admitted.

He met her gaze and his expression was perilously close to pity. “No?”

She shook her head, then busied herself pulling out the jagged glass remaining in the top of the door. “I've never been out of Montana.”

“Be careful. Don't cut yourself,” he warned.

“Don't worry about me.”

“Easier said than done,” he muttered, then asked, “Wouldn't you like to travel?”

“I don't think I'd find anything as beautiful as I've got here.”

“I'm not saying Thunder Canyon isn't spectacular. But it's exciting to see other places.”

“I guess I'll have to take your word on that,” she said measuring the empty space where the window used to be.

She didn't cut herself on the glass, but that didn't mean she wasn't dinged. For those few moments when he'd held her in his arms she'd been able to forget that he didn't hang his hat in Thunder Canyon. But now his words brought her down to earth. It was a reminder that he might have family in town, but this wasn't where he made his home.

However generous he might be with his time right now,
he'd be leaving and she shouldn't get used to having him around permanently.

But those few moments in his arms had been nicer than she would ever have imagined, much sweeter than she wanted them to be.

 

“Look, you don't have to stay here with me, Marlon, It's nearly midnight.”

And Marlon had been alone with Haley since it got dark. He knew he was going to have to tell her pretty soon why he was volunteering at ROOTS, but now wasn't the time. Another night had passed, another break-in had occurred and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. She had a lot on her mind and he was more than happy to use the excuse that it was wrong to add to her burdens. Mostly he was dreading the look of betrayal in her eyes when she found out. Call him a coward, but it could be put off just a little longer.

“No way I'm leaving,” he said.

“Seriously, go home and get some sleep.”

“Right,” he said wryly. “Like I could sleep while you wait here alone for a serial killer.”

“He hasn't killed anyone yet,” she pointed out.

“That we know of,” he reminded her.

Marlon was having serious doubts about his decision to stay and it had nothing to do with danger and everything to do with the scent of Haley's skin. They were sitting on the floor at ROOTS, resting against the back of the ratty old sofa, out of sight from the front window and facing the doorway to the rear entrance.

It was dark, not pitch black, but enough that he couldn't see her features clearly. But he could smell the sweet, floral fragrance of her and there was a knot of need twisting in his gut. He was having a hell of a time
not
kissing her. And
since all his senses besides sight were heightened, he could practically hear the soft, moany, girlish noise she'd made the first, last and only time he'd kissed her.

That was six years ago and the memory picked
now
to torture him.

“Did you hear me, Marlon?”

It was like she could read his mind. “What?”

“I said, you really should go. If the guy comes back I'll just call 9-1-1. I've got my phone.”

If only he could. Life would be less complicated. But his mother would give him hell and his father would have his hide. He might bend the speed limit rules, but he wasn't a slug who would leave a defenseless woman to face an intruder.

“I'm not going to argue with you, Haley. Two nights in a row someone got in—”

“That's because the hardware store didn't have the size glass I need. We knew the patch was iffy.” She shifted on the hard floor and bumped him. “And the someone is a he.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“The toilet seat was left up,” she said confidently.

“So speaks the crime scene investigator. All the more reason I should stay and back you up.”

Against the wall with his mouth against hers, kissing the living daylights out of her. And he told himself he wasn't completely selfish. If she had as much pent-up passion inside her as he thought, an explosion of it would chase the sadness from her eyes.

It was always there, hovering, unless she was excited about something, like this project to pay it forward. Or when she was ticked off at him. Wouldn't it be interesting to see if she was as responsive as he suspected in other ways? If kissing her wouldn't complicate the hell out of
everything, he'd do it and move on because concentrating on life after community service was hard when she looked so sad.

“Okay,” she said, yawning. “You can stay. But I hope he comes soon.”

That went double for him. When her shoulder brushed his arm, his skin caught fire and the blood drained from his head and pumped to points south of his belt.

Haley squirmed around, trying to get comfortable. “If he doesn't want to get caught, you'd think he'd pick somewhere else to break in.”

“You wanted this place to be somewhere the kids would feel welcome,” he reminded her. “Obviously this guy got the vibe.”

And speaking of vibes, he needed to take his mind off the ones that urged him to pull her into his arms. “So what do you think about Bo Clifton running for mayor?”

“I'm all for it. He's my best friend's cousin.”

“I didn't know you and Elise Clifton were friends,” he said and felt her shrug.

“She was a year older than me, but somehow we bonded. I think it had something to do with the fact that neither of us had a father.”

Elise Clifton's father had been murdered when she was twelve years old. Marlon didn't know Haley's story, but he heard the sadness in her voice. Though he couldn't see her expression, he knew there would be sadness there, too. “What happened to your dad?”

“Beats me. He just left. I don't really remember him.”

Marlon waited for her to say more, but she didn't. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay, then.” He moved off of the sensitive subject.
“What chance do you think Bo has in the election, now that he's thrown his hat in the ring?”

BOOK: Taming the Montana Millionaire
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